


january story

by whooooops (galaxyknights)



Series: jbj one-shots [1]
Category: JBJ (Band)
Genre: Comfort, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-24
Updated: 2018-01-24
Packaged: 2019-03-09 00:22:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13469757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/galaxyknights/pseuds/whooooops
Summary: A tie together of a few recent hoduken moments.





	january story

**Author's Note:**

> I tend to project too much onto Donghan so he might seem a bit out of character. This work is unbeta'd. Follow me on twitter @_populardemon to see me crying constantly about JBJ. v(｡･･｡)

It’s something in his heart—something like a hole or a pit, and nothing makes it better.

It used to be, when Donghan would feel this way, he would go to his mother and rest his head on her lap while she stroked at his hair. But his mother is in Daegu and he is everywhere else: Hong Kong, Tokyo, Manila; the exciting and glamorous jet-setting life he’d always dreamed of.

It used to be, Donghan would eat his feelings, would sit out at a street vendor and order fifteen fishcakes or two plates of chicken feet or a potato tornado or all of the above and snap at anyone who interrupted him. But his diet is too strict for that now—things like chicken are a reward for winning a variety show, not an anytime indulgence.

He wonders if it’s homesickness, or that winter depression some people get. He wonders if there’s something wrong with him.

\--

“Donghan-ah, you can’t sleep? We have practice in a few hours,” Kenta says with a yawn, scratching at his stomach under his sleep shirt.

Donghan glances up from his phone where he’s been watching old episodes of Running Man. A quick glance at the clock shows that its nearly four in the morning. He’s not that surprised. A night hasn’t passed where he’s been asleep before three. The darkness that presses on him in the messy bedroom he shares with Taehyun has been suffocating, and he can’t breathe with a demon sitting on his chest, let alone sleep.

“Oh,” he replies simply, with a weak smile and shrug, “I guess not.”

“What are you watching?” Kenta says, climbing onto the couch beside him and pressing his bony frame against Donghan. Warmth reaches into his muscles, and he can finally breathe. He snuggles back, resting his cheek on Kenta’s wheat-field hair.

“The Running Man episode where they have to escape from a room,” he shows his phone screen.

“Aren’t there a lot like that?”

“Mm,” Donghan shifts so he can breathe in the delicate scent of Kenta’s shampoo. Lets his lips brush up against the strands, still wet from a late-night bath. “But this is the best one.”

Kenta laughs softly and relaxes into his side. They watch together, huddled close in the dim blue light of the small screen, but Kenta falls asleep again quickly; Donghan can tell by the way his breathing evens out into long, gentle rasps. Kenta’s chest shifts against him rhythmically with each inhale and exhale. Eventually, finally, Donghan stops being conscious, though he can only tell by waking up the next morning.

\--

Practice is harder than usual—their comeback concert is in just a few weeks, and all of them know how important this is. None of them say it unless a manager brings it up, because it feels like too much to hope—a contract extension would mean so much for all of them.

During a water break, Taehyun puts his arm around Donghan’s waist and gives him a quick side hug. “Donghan-ah, you seem out of it. Everything alright?”

The physical contact helps—a lot of what they do is only in front of cameras, on stage. Fans scream when Hyunbin hugs Yongguk, when Donghan picks Taehyun up like doll. All idols do it, but it doesn’t really mean anything. But Donghan has always been a person that draws strength from touching. He thinks his mom must have given him too many hugs growing up, or he got too used to being babied by his older brother. He just always feels better when he’s touching someone.

Donghan gives a tight, toothless smile and nods his head. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just tired.”

Taehyun frowns, “You’re no good to us if you don't  rest.”

“Aish, are you kidding? I’m the best one here!” Donghan adds a bit of his usual bravado, and it seems to mollify Taehyun as he slaps Donghan’s back with an exasperated huff and moves along to Sanggyun.

Right after practice they have a work out session, and after that an interview on a radio show. There’s not enough time for Taehyun to ask again if he’s feeling alright.

\--

Honbab filming is fun, but also lonely. Donghan likes that he gets to eat off his strict diet, but he hates being alone. He says it to the camera, “I used to eat alone a lot, back when I was the only trainee at my company. I’m used to it.”

“I’ll give you a tip,” he looks into the lens, “It’s best to watch something funny while eating. When you’re laughing you can’t feel alone,” he eats another piece of kimchi. It’s a bit hard to pretend when there’s no one actually with him to pretend for. His manager is in other room, and it’s just him and four webcams for company. He wishes he could watch something funny right now, but it obviously wouldn’t work for the show.

He also wishes the other members were here. He misses Sanggyun’s ridiculous laugh and Hyunbin’s dumb jokes. He misses Yongguk’s silly expressions and Taehyun’s constant exasperation. And Kenta. Kenta would love this ramen. He loves cola, too. Maybe Donghan should bring him one from the convenience store on the way back to the dorm…

He polishes off the tempura shrimp, and looks down at the rest of the noodles in his bowl. He knows he shouldn’t finish it. And so he doesn’t. The act feels like a personal feat that he tells himself is making him stronger as a person. He’s an ascetic. Truly monk-like. Maybe if he keeps this up he’ll reach enlightenment.

Donghan sighs and pats at the soft knit of his sweater. “Ah, I ate so well I didn’t even think about the other members."

\--

People who say they like airports haven’t been in enough airports. There’s very little about the experience that isn’t miserable, and Donghan never really gets used to it. The walls in the airport in Manila are the same speckled gray as the airports in Hong Kong and Osaka, and those are the same as the ones in Seoul and Taipei. It’s possible there’s really just one airport and the doors all lead to a space somewhere else, a purgatory built specifically to punish Donghan for some deed he can’t remember.

“I think I must have betrayed my country in a past life,” he says.

“What?” Hyunbin looks up from whatever SNS he’s fooling around on.

Donghan sighs, slumps down into his neck pillow, “Nothing.”

It doesn’t help that with their schedule as packed as it is, flights usually double as sleeping time, so all the members are tired and cranky and passing out on each other’s shoulders as they struggle to shuffle from one flight to the next.

What Donghan wouldn’t give for his bed right now…his left leg? No, that’s his good leg. Maybe his right, though.

Donghan stands up—he knows he won’t be able to sleep in the airport, no matter how many times he tries. The other members are gathered around the same set of seats—Yongguk is leaned up, unconscious and open-mouthed, against Kenta, who is looking at something on his phone.

Donghan kicks his shoe gently, “Hey, do you know where the bathroom is?”

Kenta looks up, and blinks at him. “Ah, no, sorry.”

Donghan shrugs, “It’s fine.” He starts to walk off to ask one of the crew members.

“I’ll look for it with you?” Kenta says, a statement, but turned up at the end like a question in case Donghan doesn’t want him to. It’s a very Kenta thing to do. The kid’s considerate to a fault.

Donghan doesn’t answer. Doesn’t really have the energy to say much right now. He’s running on six hours of sleep between the last two days. He nods, though, and that’s enough for Kenta, who shifts slightly so he can rearrange Yongguk on the chair without waking him and stands to follow.

They both pull up their face masks and wave at the managers so they don’t think they’ve up and lost two members. It was a bit strange at first, getting used to walking around with a mask covering everything but his eyes, but it feels almost comforting now, the warmth of his breath pressing back humidly onto his face.

They find the bathroom easily, but outside it Kenta stops him.

“Wait, are you wearing my necklace?” he asks.

Donghan looks down, touches softly at his collar where the necklace is sticking out. “Hm? I found this in the bathroom,” he says. Which is true. Kenta reaches out and grabs at the necklace. It’s small, simple: a silver cross on a square black stone.

“The bathroom at home? So you knew it was someone’s,” Kenta clicks his tongue. “And you didn’t ask?”

Donghan knew exactly whose it was. That’s why he’d followed the compulsion to take it and wear it like a keepsake. He pouts, puts on his biggest puppy-dog eyes. He puts a soft hand on Kenta’s chest. “Hyung, can I please wear your necklace?”

“Aish, you’re so spoiled,” Kenta smiles, and when Donghan smiles back, Kenta’s joy seems to double—his eyes nearly close in happiness. They turn down into sweet, beautiful crescents that show off Kenta’s expression despite nearly all his features being covered by a mask.

Donghan doesn’t realize how swept up he is until someone comes up behind him and hugs the both of them closer together. “You guys are drawing a crowd,” Hyunbin says, nodding at the fansite paparazzi that have gathered in a nearby airport gate and are snapping pictures of the moment.

Kenta’s smile barely fades. He just shrugs, eyes catching Donghan’s again, and Donghan stares as long as socially acceptable, then even a bit longer after that, until Hyunbin is leaning around and whispering to Kenta that they should get ready for boarding.

\--

It’s a Tuesday night. Donghan is on his stomach on the couch in the living room, chin on one arm and the other holding his phone. He’s been messaging some friends from DOB, and it’s nice, but there’s no time to meet up.

“Are you tired?” he hears Kenta ask, before his weight presses down on the cushion next to Donghan’s hip. Kenta’s hand comes up to rub at his back the same way he might pet Tolbi and Rcy.

“A bit,” Donghan lies. His exhaustion is soul deep at this point. It’s not even the sleeping. It’s everything, and nothing all at once. It’s the fact that he doesn’t know how to help himself. The uncertainty is a new and painful kind of enervating.

“Ahh, hmm. Do you wanna watch something?” Kenta says. His hand presses a bit harder, working at one of the knots under Donghan’s left shoulder blade through the cotton of his sleep shirt. “You can pick. Something I’ve never seen before.”

Donghan wriggles around to see his face, and smirks, “That leaves a lot; you’ve never seen any of the good stuff.”

Kenta smiles at him, and Donghan tries to smile back. It doesn’t reach his eyes, and Kenta’s brows furrow.

“The couch is uncomfortable, let’s go to my room,” Kenta says, and Donghan stares at his back as he’s led down the dark hallway.

Donghan likes Kenta’s bed. He likes the plush, heavy comforter, and the stuffed animals that Kenta keeps against the wall. He likes that it always smells like Kenta.

Donghan crawls in first, claims the side furthest from the edge, and snatches the comforter over his legs while Kenta is still changing into his pajama pants. He doesn’t look—he checks his phone instead. “Have you ever seen the ‘We Got Married’ with Sungjae and Joy?”

“I don’t think so?”

“Tsk, of course not. You’re not romantic at all,” Donghan says, pulling up the episode on his phone to get it loading.

When Kenta lifts the comforter to let himself in, Donghan shifts to give him space, but Kenta just moves closer. He moves until they’re snuggling against each other, like them and the two stuffed animals are four puppies in a basket.

“No face pack tonight?”

Kenta shakes his head from where it’s pressed against Donghan’s arm, “I did it in the bath earlier.”

“Mm,” Donghan nods, and presses play.

The episode really is romantic. Donghan loves ‘We Got Married’, but always finds himself jealous of the couples on it. While it plays, they slowly drift as a unit further and further down until they’re both lying on their back on the mattress.

When it ends, Donghan is quiet. He thinks Kenta might have fallen asleep, but after a few moments, his voice comes out clear.

“Hey,” Kenta pauses. The air is suddenly thick with tension, and Donghan knows what’s coming next before he even says it. “How are you?”

“I’m fine,” Donghan replies readily. He suddenly finds the stuffed fox fascinating and puts it on his chest so he can stare into its embroidered face.

“Tsk, stop doing that,” Kenta says. He reaches up to Donghan’s hair and pats it down slightly. He offers the smallest, sweetest smile, and Donghan feels a flutter in his chest where his heart should be, “Donghan-ah, look at me.”

Donghan does. He turns his head slowly, lets his eyes drift up to meet Kenta’s. He couldn’t explain why it’s so difficult.

“It’s okay to feel bad,” Kenta says. There’s something in his voice—maybe frustration? “You don’t have to lie about it. It’s just me.”

Kenta pauses to give Donghan a chance to answer, but he stays quiet. He hasn’t been able to explain this hole in his chest to himself, so it doesn’t seem fair to try and put it on Kenta.

“I remember,” Kenta continues when he realizes Donghan isn’t planning on speaking, “When I first came to Korea…I was so anxious when I moved here, and then so…mad at myself for how I felt. I was following my dreams, but I was so homesick. I felt like, you know, I came here to shine, but I could feel myself fizzling out and I was so lonely, nothing seemed to help. And no one thing really did, I guess. Day by day, it just got a bit easier. But sometimes, its still so hard. And I wonder if I made the right choice. I haven’t seen my mom in two years, you know? Even when we went to Japan last year, I didn’t get to see my family.”

Kenta reaches his hand up to Donghan’s face again while he speaks. Donghan blinks. He feels like he might cry. Part of him wants to make a joke to brush off the feeling swelling in his chest. “I don’t know how you’re feeling. I don’t mean to compare…I just…I just want you to know it’s okay. Whatever it is, it’s okay. Just rely on us a little. I love you,” he says, “We all love you and want your heart to feel well.”

“Hyung…,” Donghan frowns, “You’re ruining the integrity of our business relationship.”

Kenta’s mouth stretches into a wicked grin and he jabs at Donghan’s side, “Aish, you brat!”

Donghan smiles back at him, and if he could see his own face he might realize this is the first real one in weeks. The first one that isn’t for the sake of his image or someone else’s benefit. The first one that is just joy, bubbling up and manifesting itself in the form of a wide, toothy box.

Kenta gets in a few more jabs into his ribs, until Donghan shoves the fox pillow between them as a shield and calls a truce.

The silence they settle into next is easy. It always is, somehow. Kenta reaches up his fingers to stroke against the soft hair behind Donghan’s ear. It’s nice—he focuses on the feeling, on the quiet breath that leaves his nose. It’s a bit meditative, and he can’t help but let it soothe him into a light sleep.

Kenta presses his other palm against Donghan’s chest, and Donghan hums, feels himself smile again. When Kenta begins to falls asleep and slowly stops stroking at his ear Donghan reaches for the contact, clutches Kenta’s small hand against his shirt, and dreams about spring time.

\--

Sanggyun isn’t in the room when he wakes, though Kenta is still curled up like a comma beside him. His sleeping lips are parted slightly, and Donghan would be lying again if he said he didn’t take the opportunity to gaze unabashedly at every part of Kenta’s face.

If Donghan starts inviting himself to Kenta’s bed a few nights a week, no one says anything. Sanggyun doesn’t take any more pictures (at least, doesn’t post them to Twitter), and Rcy takes to sleeping on Donghan’s made-up bed since no one ever disturbs it.

Falling asleep with Kenta’s hand in his, waking up to feel Kenta’s head on his chest—it doesn’t cure whatever is wrong with him. But day by day, it gets a bit easier.


End file.
